writer Archives | Page 5 of 21

Do You Get What You Deserve from Political Fiction?

I thought since Monday was Presidents’ Day in the US, I should tailor this post toward the political. And as I’m not one to discuss politics in a business setting (although my family and I have heated debates), this would be the perfect time to discuss the genre of political fiction.

Fiction, when done correctly, helps us make sense of the world around us. Therefore, politically-themed fiction should help us make sense of war, trade embargos, terrorist attacks, immigration, government coups, voting debacles, scandals, etc. Look at the Civil War novel Gone with the Wind, the WWI novel A Farewell to Arms, and the WWII novel The Diary of a Young Girl: Anne Frank, just to name a few stories with political themes. These stories give us a picture of their respective wars, but more importantly, context with which to understand them.

And just how do we achieve this context? I’ll give you a hint—it’s not by excessive description of battles and death.

Gone with the Wind isn’t about Sherman’s March; it’s about a girl struggling to overcome the aftermath of that march.

A Farewell to Arms isn’t about the crushing defeat of the Italians in the Battle of Caporetto; it’s about a man searching for love amidst the horrors of war.

The Diary of a Young Girl: Anne Frank isn’t about the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands; it’s about the tragic life of a young girl in hiding during those years.

We get historical context through character development in fictional works. (Agree? Tweet it.)

So many of the novels dealing with today’s tragic events focus on the horrors of war. They become military thrillers. And I love a good thriller; don’t get me wrong. But except for the exhilarating and terrifying journey they take me on, I’m left with no message, no commentary. No understanding of the conflict, no comprehension of how it affects me or the world around me.

Political fiction, successful political fiction, has to help make sense of the conflict and the resolution. (Agree? Tweet it.)

How do Gone with the Wind, A Farewell to Arms, and The Diary of Anne Frank differ from today’s political thrillers? They focus on the characters, which ultimately gives us a context with which to process the historical significance of the wars.

Good fiction, regardless of the genre, is driven by characters.

Who they are before the inciting incident.
How they react to the changes in their lives.
How they behave in the climax.
Who they become in the resolution.

Plot-driven fiction is exciting, but still needs character development to work. Character-driven fiction is compelling, but still needs a viable plot to drive the action.

In fiction, character and plot are difficult to divorce, even when one takes precedent over the other. Both must be strong for a story to be a success.

But in political fiction, we’ll never understand the complexities of events, and the results on our lives, if we don’t delve deeply into the characters and let them relate their stories. One small slice of a person’s experience in a great conflict can tell us more about the situation than an overarching picture of the whole thing.

Writers:
Are you working on a political novel? Is it character- or plot-driven? Do you see the difference between the two? What are your goals—an action-filled ride or a psychological commentary on the event? You have to have solid answers (and reasons for them) in order for your novel to work. Spend some time thinking about that.

Everyone:
Do you enjoy reading (or watching) political fiction? Do you have a favorite book or film? How did it make your list? Let’s talk about it.

15 Valentine’s Day Tips, 5 for Each Situation (Infographic)

If you know anything about me, you know that I’m all about relationships. In my fiction, I write about all kinds: healthy ones, dysfunctional ones, romantic/familial/friend ones. To me, fiction doesn’t work unless you have strong characters and passionate bonds between them.

You’d think that would lead to a mushy post about love and Valentine’s Day, but to be honest, I’m not a huge Valentine’s Day fan. My husband and I give trinkets to our kids, and I usually bake a heart-shaped cake (a tradition passed down from my mother), but I think love should be expressed every day, not just on the day a greeting card company designates.

So, to that end, this year’s Valentine’s Day post is a simple infographic. Five tips for people in a committed relationship, five tips for single people who are happy to be single, and five tips for people who have recently endured a breakup. Just little suggestions for how to spend the “holiday” that many people stress over.

What should I give him?

What should we do?

Where can I go?

How will I get through the day?

The answers follow.

So, writers—Keep writing those relationships into your stories; play with the dynamics and really work your character arcs.

And everyone—Regardless of your relationship status and your feelings about the holiday, I wish you the happiest Valentine’s Day.

Why I’m Giving Away My Novel… For FREE

If you’ve read the title, you’re probably wondering what’s wrong with me. Why would I spend all the time and energy that goes into writing/editing/publishing a novel just to give it away? I must be crazy, right?

Well, maybe a little. But not because I’m giving my book away. For other reasons, though. (Anyone who knows my obsession with light switches facing the right way could attest to that.)

I worked hard on my novel. Really hard. And I think I probably worked even harder editing it. That kind of effort should be rewarded, not handed out to the masses. Or should it?

See, studies have shown that if you give your content away, you’ll reach a larger audience. That only makes sense. I wouldn’t necessarily shell out any money—let alone a substantial amount—for an unknown author or book. But if the description appeals to me, I’ll pick it up for free and check it out.

And that’s the premise behind giving the novel away. Not only do authors hope to reach a broader audience by giving their work away, they hope their new fans will be interested in reading more of their work, and will recommend them to their friends and family. After all, word-of-mouth marketing and repeat customers are the best methods of cultivating a fan base. And, as writers, we really want a strong fan base because we really want to share our stories and ideas with the world.

Just as important as reader numbers is review numbers. People look at reviews on Amazon to determine whether they’re interested in reading a book or not.

That’s why I’ve listed my novel on the Story Cartel website. There are several benefits:

The book is only offered free for a limited time, so I won’t always “lose money” on it.
The readers are asked to leave an honest review on Amazon in exchange for the download. There is no pressure to give a favorable review; if a reader doesn’t like the novel, constructive criticism is perfectly acceptable.
More people visit the Story Cartel website than my own site, so I have a broader audience to offer my work to.
Even if you aren’t a marketing guru, your personalized book page can be seen on various social media sites and shared by readers to their followers.

Please consider supporting authors and expanding your reading list by visiting Story Cartel, downloading a novel, leaving a review, and telling your friends. You’ll get to expand your library and you’ll help an author in the process.

To get your free copy of Type and Cross, please click on the hyperlink. And, if you download a copy, thanks in advance for your review. I hope you enjoy the novel.

Here’s an excerpt:

Birthdays and Growth

I make a big deal of birthdays. Well, let me be clear. I make a big deal of other people’s birthdays. Today, one of my dearest friends (whom I’ve known since 7^th grade) is celebrating her birthday.

Happiest Birthday, Amy!

I remember birthday parties and sleepovers at her house. Going to the movies, school dances, football games. We’re still friends today because we have a lot of history. (And because she’s nice. Can’t discount that!)

I’m at a point in my life where my birthday seems like just another day. My kids are older, my husband and I work, I don’t live in my hometown. Nothing special happens on my birthday. It’s just a day.

Amy, on the other hand, has one grown child but two new ones. She’s experiencing the wonder of life all over again. She sees first hand why not only birthdays, but all days, are adventures.

See, when we get older, we take the little things for granted. We work so hard for the big things, we barely appreciate them when we get them.

Life seems tedious to adults who rise, work, sleep, and do it all again the next day. But it doesn’t have to be that way. (tweet that)

It shouldn’t be that way.

When was the last time you stopped and smelled the roses? I don’t mean metaphorically. I mean literally. When did you last enjoy a blooming flower, the smell of a rain shower, the wonder of a single flake of snow?

The world is precious, and it’s marvelous, and it’s here for us to appreciate, enjoy, savor. (tweet that)

Maybe we should all celebrate birthdays—all days—with the same unabashed joy children do.

For Writers:
I’m working on book 2 of my romance series. The female protagonist celebrates her birthday near the end of the novel. She has spent years avoiding such attention, but her hero convinces her otherwise. It’s a touching scene, because her character has grown and changed so much to get to that point. (It’s also a steamy scene, romance lovers, but that’s fodder for another post 😉 …) Do you have a character who needs momentum? Consider writing about his or her birthday. How old is the character? How has his background shaped him to view his birthday, his life? How would he respond to a surprise bash with 100 people? An intimate celebration with his significant other? A birthday could be an excellent vehicle for character development.

For Everyone:
A birthday is a holiday that everyone will celebrate over the course of the year. Do you like your birthday? Love it? Dread it? What are some birthday traditions you have? I’d love to hear from you in the comments.

And happiest birthday, Amy! I hope it’s the best yet. (I had a great picture of us to post, but I can’t find it. Sorry!)

The Importance of Down-Days

I remember when I was young; stores and restaurants remained closed on holidays and Sundays. I don’t know if it was our local government ordinances (I come from a small town in Pennsylvania), if it was the owners wanting time with their families (and expecting us to want time with ours), if it was a religious matter (I don’t think anyone in our town celebrated the Sabbath on a Saturday), or if it was merely a matter of habit.

But somewhere, sometime, for some reason along the way, commerce encroached on our Sundays and holidays.

Now, I admit, I am guilty of taking advantage of this change. My family often goes out for brunch after Mass. I often shop on Sundays, because there are things we need and we’re passing the store, anyway. Laundry needs to get done sometime.

But losing these rest days, those down-days, is detrimental to us. On many levels. (Tweet this.)

It takes time away from family.
People are far busier now than when I was young. Kids have sports and clubs and travel teams. Adults work longer hours and more days. Housework needs to get done at some point. But when we fill our rest days with mundane tasks and club events, we separate our family unit. We need that time together. It strengthens the family bond. When I was young, we visited my grandparents every Sunday evening. Not just my family; my aunt, uncle, and cousins, too. That’s why not just immediate families, but extended families as well, used to be much closer. It was the time spent together. We should all use our “down-days” to make time to strengthen these familial bonds.
It prevents us from recharging our batteries.
Working more than a forty-hour week. More homework than in years gone by. Traveling several hours for a tournament. These things take their toll. The human body needs rest to function properly. The human mind needs downtime to prevent memory loss. The human spirit needs a break from the bustle of daily life to stay healthy. Without a “down-day,” we court trouble for later on.
It takes focus away from what’s truly important.
For some people, explaining this is as simple as saying: Keep Holy the Sabbath Day. But not everyone belongs to a religion with this mandate; some people don’t belong to a religious group at all. Having one day a week to focus on what is most important in our lives is so important. It takes away from the drudgery of everyday obligations and reminds us of our priorities. We don’t (or shouldn’t) work to make money. We should work to care for our loved ones. What’s the point of working to support our loved ones if we’re never with them? It’s time we take those “down-days” back and spend that time doing things that truly matter.

How do we do this?

Plan.

Sure, it’s convenient to run errands on our down-days. But if we change our priorities just a little, we can have that one day to ourselves.

Do one load of laundry a night instead of waiting to do it all in one day.
Stop at the store on the way home from work one evening.
Make extra food during the week or utilize leftovers so you aren’t out at a restaurant or in the kitchen all day on your down-day.

A little forethought and planning will give us the time we need at the end of the week for the things that are most important (and the things we’ve neglected the most).

For Writers
Do you have a character who is always working? Give him one rest day and see what happens to him. Or, if you have one who makes use of his down-days, take them away and watch what happens. These down-days are essential for physical, mental, and emotional health. Adding or removing them can add tension, conflict, and drama to a character that is falling flat.

For Everyone
This is a three-day weekend for many of us here in the United States. It gives us the opportunity to group two or more down-days together, to really make the most of our time off. Are you going to use the time wisely or waste it away? Let’s discuss how you spend your down-days, or whether you even have any. I’d love to hear your ideas.

Why You Shouldn’t Make a New Year’s Resolution

Happy New Year, everyone. I hope your 2015 is off to a happy, healthy, and productive start.

My last post was in December and was kind of a State of the Union address. Well, the part of the address that states where I’d been and what I’d accomplished. The part of the address that talks about where I’m going and what my new goals are should likely be today. It would include the ubiquitous New Year’s Resolutions.

This may come as a surprise to you, but I’m not making any this year. And I don’t think you should, either.

I’m not trying to tell you what to do. If you do/did make any resolutions, I really hope you hit your goals. But I’m going to tell you why I didn’t, and why I probably won’t ever again.

See, people have a fascination with beginnings. We have a tendency to wait until Monday (the beginning of the week) to start anything new. And if it doesn’t work out on Wednesday, we scrap the whole plan until Monday rolls around again. Starting over on Monday, again and again, is defeating on several levels.

It gives us a crutch to rely on.
If we know we have another beginning coming up, we can scrap our resolution and wait until the next beginning.
It gives the bad habit more of a foothold in our lives.
Instead of getting right back to our resolution when we falter, we wait until Monday. That just means the behavior we’re trying to modify gets several more days in our lives—instead of just one moment of weakness—and gets more of a hold over us. It also causes more damage to us, because we have those negative effects working on us instead of being immediately suppressed.
Experiencing several defeats makes us fail at other things.
When we try and fail several times, on some level we start to believe we aren’t ever going to be able to meet our goals. Failing at this one endeavor could cause us to fail on other levels, simply because we’ve taught ourselves that we don’t have what it takes to follow through.
Not following through breaks our spirits.
Not only do we teach ourselves to fail at other things, we get frustrated and depressed. We can’t understand why we aren’t able to reach our goals, and because of the failure, our opinions of ourselves plummet.

Mondays aren’t the only beginning, though. The new year is the biggest beginning we have. All of our goals are magnified. And so are our failures.

This problem is compounded when we make not just one resolution, but several. (Click to Tweet this idea.)

The new year is our Big Beginning. We spend the end of December evaluating our lives, and we always find things we aren’t happy with. Things we want to change:

weight (diet, exercise)
health (quit smoking, drinking)
appearance (complete image overhaul)
employment (get promotion, find new job)
home (redecorate, move)
car (upgrade for luxury features)
future prospects (continue education, save more money, decrease debt)
downtime (cut TV, enjoy weekends, relax, vacation)
charity (volunteer, donate)

In addition to the problems listed above, the evaluations of our lives lead us to not want to take on one of these issues, but several. If we struggle to initiate a single change on any random Monday, how can we ever hope to make multiple—huge—changes in January? It’s already a difficult time of year. We’re just coming off a holiday season, and our barren rooms without decorations seem stark and sad. We’re entering a stretch of weeks where we have no holiday breaks to look forward to. And (at least in this part of the world) we have nothing but short bleak days, long dark nights, and bitter winter weather to deal with. This is the worst time to try to make any change, let alone many changes… many BIG changes.

Finally, it should be noted that change shouldn’t be dependent on the day of the week or the time of the year.

If we need to make a change, we should do it. Anytime. Not because it’s Monday or January, but because we want to be better people. We’re far more likely to reach a goal if we are motivated by desire rather than time. (Click to Tweet this idea.)

So maybe I shouldn’t tell you not to make any resolutions. Maybe, instead, I should tell you to make them for the right reasons. And if you slip up, don’t wait for a predetermined beginning to start over. Make your own beginning. Right away.

For Writers:
Do you have any resolutions for writing this year? Complete a novel? Get a publishing contract? I wish you the best of luck. If you have any suggestions or progress you’d like to share, I’d love to hear from you.

For Everyone:
If you made a resolution, I wish you all the best. If you want to talk about it, leave a comment. I’d love to hear from you.

2014 — A Year in Review and a Wish for You

This time of year, we can’t help but reflect on what we’ve accomplished. That introspection can give us a sense of great accomplishment. It might result in disappointment. I wish the former for all of you.

As for me, this year seems a roller coaster of emotions.

My kids had some injuries to work through during their sports’ seasons. But both have recovered and are in better shape than they were before their injuries.

We don’t get to see family very often; we’re too far away. But when we do get to visit, we’ve learned to really appreciate our time together.

We lost some dear family members, and others aren’t doing very well. But we have a wonderful new in-law (my niece got married) and there are two new babies in our family (my brother-in-law and my nephew each have a baby girl now… so I’m now a great-aunt in both senses of the word).

Some of my friends and I drifted apart. But I made some wonderful new ones, both in person and online.

I parted ways with my agent. But I landed a multi-book contract with an independent press, and one of my novels will be out later this month.

I stopped working at the publishing house where I edited. But I took a job as a marketing director with a fabulous new publisher, and I’m having a blast.

I’m finding less time to write. But I’m writing faster and smarter.

My husband? Solid as a rock. So I guess all things being equal, he puts me one ahead in the “good things” column.

Yes, it’s been a year of ups and downs. But we all have them. I hope as you look back over your year, you find you have more items in your “good things” column than in the “bad things” column.

Thank you for taking a little time each week to read my posts, maybe even chat with me afterward. Your support means more to me than you’ll ever know. Enjoy your holidays, and I’ll see you in 2015!

Maintaining Mental Health During the Holidays

For many people, this is a joyous time of year. If you’re a Christian, you’re celebrating the birth of Jesus. If you’re Jewish, you celebrate Hanukkah, the miracle of lights for eight days with only enough fuel for one. If you celebrate Kwanzaa, you are celebrating “the first fruits of the harvest” for a week at the end of the month. (Heck, if you’re a Seinfeld fan, you might even be celebrating the airing of grievances during Festivus!) And if you aren’t religious at all, there’s still enough food and gifts circulating around—as well as merriment and good will—that the mood becomes infectious.

For some people, however, this is a sad and painful time of year. According to PsychologyToday.com, many factors contribute to the melancholy of the season. Possible causes include:

Excessive commercialization of the season, resulting in the true meaning being lost.
Obsession over the “perfect” gift or menu, resulting in stress and unrealistic expectations.
Self-reflection over accomplishments, resulting in despair over shortcomings and anger with others who have more.
Pressure to meet or exceed others’ or last year’s gifts, resulting in anxiety over finances.
Dread over familial and social obligations, resulting in stress and depression.
Despair over lost loved ones (and/or lost employment), sometimes even culminating in suicide or attempted suicide.

One Christmas, we had three family funerals within a span of one week. (Believe me, you couldn’t make a story like this up.) They were all on my husband’s side of the family, but actually three different branches of his family, so most people only had to attend one funeral that week. We, however, had all three: a Troilo death, a Turra death, and a Biagioni death. Grieving the first was horrible. Grieving the second was difficult. By the time we got to the third? After the shock and incredulity wore off, we were simply numb. Humans simply aren’t conditioned to process losses like that.

I thought that would be the worst holiday I ever experienced. Of course, I also thought that the year my grandfather died. That was the first time I experienced a loss of someone close to me, and it was terrible.

Several years after these sad holidays, I’m faced with another familial death. My husband’s grandmother just passed away. The funeral is this weekend. Added to that, my uncle has taken a turn for the worst and is likely never to return home. This holiday feels like the most difficult one I’ve ever faced. But I know it’s just because this pain is fresh, and the other difficult holidays are being remembered through the numbing effects of time.

Time may not heal all wounds, but it certainly takes the edge off.

(click to tweet that)

So I ask you for this one favor. This year, when you meet a person who is less than jubilant, consider the stresses they might be under. Don’t call them a Scrooge or a Grinch. Instead, offer them some compassion. It might be just the holiday gift they need.

For Writers:
The triggers mentioned here are real and powerful factors that impact people, not even just during the holidays, but all year long. Fiction relies on conflict. Incorporating any of these issues as character motivation will enrich your work. I’m about to release a mainstream fiction novel full of dysfunctional family dynamics and poor choices. The motivations behind the characters’ actions, however, are understandable and in some cases even noble. These are the things that take one-dimensional characters and make them vibrant.

For Everyone:
Yes, this is an emotional time of year. If you are happy right now, my wish for you is that you continue to be so. If you are stressed, my wish is that you find relaxation. The holiday is coming whether your cookies are baked, your gifts are bought, or your cards are sent. Try to enjoy the frivolity and let the other issues go. But if you are seriously depressed? I wish you the peace of the season, the ability to focus on the good messages and intentions and the release of your anxiety, and the redirection of your negative emotions to something healthier. My prayers are with all of you, this season and always.

Laci and Del: Oh, For A Wonderful Life

It’s the first Friday of the month. Time for another installment of short fiction. You can, at any time, find this work or any of the First Friday Fiction Features (#FFFF), by going to the My Work tab, clicking on Freebies, and selecting the story you wish to read.

The Laci and Del Saga was an experiment in serial fiction, where I wrote 12 stories in 12 months throughout 2014. I hope you enjoyed reading the selections as much as I enjoyed writing them. This is part 12 of 12, when the saga comes to a close and we learn their fates. So, without further ado, I give you part 12.

Laci and Del: Oh, For A Wonderful Life

Laci trimmed her tree and decked her halls, shopped the sales and wrapped her gifts, baked her cookies and listened to carols. So she didn’t sing along this year. At least she didn’t brood in silence. She even attempted a Yule log. Sure, it looked more like a Yule lump, but she tried.

None of it mattered. The Christmas Spirit eluded her.

When Christmas day came, she went to church and prayed to God to take her pain away, but either her prayer went unheard or unanswered. Del was permanently gone from her life, and her heart wasn’t broken—it was shattered.

Usually she went to her parents’ right after church, but she wasn’t up for the festivities. Instead, she went home. And cried as she watched It’s a Wonderful Life over and over again. Clarence got his wings. George learned how important he was to everyone.

Laci got more depressed and learned how important alcohol would be to getting through the holidays.

Too bad she’d already finished all the liquor in her apartment. Maybe she’d overindulge at her folks’. She could always spend the night. Or call a cab.

She’d waited as long as she could, but before Clarence got his wings the third time, she could delay no longer. She bundled up and headed to Christmas dinner.

Two blocks from her parents’ home, she pulled her car over and stared at a Tudor home with a large yard. She’d always loved that house, ever since she was a little girl. It had been for sale for almost a year, and she had entertained the idea of buying it when she and Del were dating. Someone had beat her to it, though. Lights were on inside it, and the sign had been removed from the yard. Another dream out of her reach.

She sighed, put the car in drive, and went to Christmas dinner. It was every bit as dreadful as she’d expected. Her cousin Clara spent the whole meal fused to her fiancé. They looked like a two-headed monster. Laci waited for Clara to climb into Kyle’s lap, but thank God she stayed plastered to his side. Still…

It nauseated Laci.

Alcohol be damned. There wasn’t enough liquor in her dad’s entire bar to make her stay there any longer. While Clara cuddled with Kyle and her mother and Aunt Rose started getting cookies out, Laci slipped her coat on, grabbed a bottle of rum, tucked it under her jacket, and headed outside.

“Aren’t you even going to stay and open presents?”

She turned around to see her father had followed her out to the sidewalk. He had on slippers and no coat, and his face was already turning pink in the frigid air.

“Dad, what are you doing? You’re going to get sick, and Mom will blame me. Get back inside.”

“I will if you will.”

“I can’t, Dad. It’s all just too much.”

He closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her. Instead of the warmth she needed, she just felt chilled. Snow flurries fell and clung to his thinning hair and cable knit sweater. He felt smaller to her than the hero of her youth. He was no longer her knight in shining armor, able to slay her demons and save her day. She had found a new hero, and she’d lost him. Hell, she’d driven him away. Blinking back tears, she patted her father’s back and pulled out of his arms.

“You need to go in. And I just have to go.”

“What about leftovers? Or a dish of cookies? Take something home with you.”

She pulled out the rum she’d pilfered and wiggled the bottle at him. Then she kissed him on the cheek. “Goodbye, Dad.” She turned and headed for her car.

“Will we at least see you for your birthday?”

Pain was a hot poker searing through the center of her heart. Last year on her birthday, just after the clock chimed the new year, she and Del reconciled. Her future was promising, bright. Suffering through this birthday without him would be torturous. She didn’t know if she could bear it.

Instead of making a promise to her father that she couldn’t keep, she got in her car, waved at him, and drove away.

Back at her apartment, she curled up on her couch with the remote control, a box of tissues, and the bottle of rum. She didn’t even bother with a glass. Sometime during her George Bailey marathon, she fell asleep, surrounded by tear-soaked wadded up Kleenex and a half-empty bottle of Bacardi.

* * *

Laci’s company shut down the week between Christmas and New Year, and she always loved having that time off. Until this year.

This year, every day was an endless litany of phone calls and emails checking on her and inviting her out to cheer her up. By the second day, she’d buried her laptop under snail mail and turned her phone to silent. She’d allow herself a few more days of wallowing, but she’d be damned if she’d start the new year miserable. Determined to get out of her funk and attend the annual New Year’s Eve party at Kelly’s house, she dug a scarlet sequined cocktail dress out of the back of her closet. It still had the tags on it; she’d never been daring enough to wear it before. She hung it on her closet door and stared at it every day, trying to get the courage to go through with it.

On the thirty-first, she got up, downed a huge steaming mug of black coffee, and headed out. A manicure, pedicure, and hair appointment later, she was back at her apartment, staring at her dress.

She still had eight hours to talk herself out of going.

Or into going.

She tried reading a book, watching a movie, listening to music. Nothing relaxed her. She tried catching up on emails. She deleted several from Del—unopened. Finally, she opted to soak in the tub, making sure to keep her hair well above water level.

Not even lavender-scented bubbles settled her nerves.

At eight o’clock, the time when the party officially started, she got out of the tub.

At nine o’clock, she applied her makeup.

At ten o’clock, when even the late-comers had shown up at the party, she started to get dressed.

At eleven o’clock, she stood in her bedroom, dressed to kill. And sick to her stomach.

“I’ll never get a cab this late,” she said to the empty room. “No point in even trying.”

She glanced in the mirror and had to acknowledge she was the world’s worst liar. Her poker face consisted of trembling lips and watery eyes. She turned away from the mirror and took a deep breath.

Her gaze landed on her jewelry box, and she crossed the room to it. Pulling open the top drawer, she took out a stunning diamond necklace. The one Del had given her so long ago.

The one he’d recognized on her last year when he found her on Kelly’s patio.

It was exactly what she needed to complete the outfit. In fact, when she bought the dress, she said that very thing in the dressing room.

She always thought she’d have a ring to match, but it wasn’t to be.

She blinked back tears, fastened the diamond strand around her neck, and walked back to the mirror.

It looked perfect.

And felt terrible.

She stood in front of her mirror, staring at her reflection. Memories flooded back to her, crushing, debilitating. Her breath came in shallow gasps and her heart drummed a staccato beat in her ears. Every blink, every breath, every heart beat… Del. His smile, his laugh. His arms around her, his lips on hers. Holidays and vacations. Games and movies. Everywhere she looked, every sound she heard… Delany.

The buzz of her doorbell broke into her thoughts. She tried to ignore it, but her uninvited guest was persistent. It was probably her parents, making sure she was okay. Resigned to a tedious conversation, she stomped to the door and flung it open.

Del stood there, leaning against her door frame.

Words failed her.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

She shook her head, blinked hard, and swallowed. “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t at Kelly’s.”

“I wasn’t at Kelly’s because I didn’t feel like a party tonight.”

“Then why are you dressed for one?”

She sighed. “I was in the mood earlier. Now I’m not.” She faked a cough. “I’m not feeling well.”

He raised an eyebrow and his lips twitched like he was suppressing a smile. “I see.” He pushed her door open and entered her apartment. “Well, I guess I’ll stay here and take care of you.”

She closed the door and followed him into the living room. “That’s not necessary.”

“I insist.”

She sighed. “Shouldn’t you be out west somewhere?”

“Why?” He sat down.

“Why?” Her voice raised in both pitch and decibel. “Why? Because you live there!”

“Says who?”

“Delany.” She fisted her hands, put one against her forehead and rested the other on her hip. “I don’t have the energy for this.”

“So sit. I told you I’d take care of you.”

She lowered her arms and stared at him. “What do you want?”

He patted the couch cushion beside him. “Please come here. I need to talk to you.”

Sighing, she gave up and crossed to him. She stared down at him before finally sitting… on the opposite side of the sofa.

He got up and moved over to sit beside her. Taking her hand in his—and taking a deep breath—he stared into her eyes.

His proximity was more than she could stand, and she started to rise. But he held on to her, and she was forced to remain seated.

“Lace, I’ve practiced this I don’t know how many times. But the words seem inadequate now. So let me just tell you, I don’t accept what you said to me in October. I tried, because I thought it was what you wanted, but I can’t. I love you.”

“It doesn’t matter, Del. It’s not enough.”

“It does matter.” He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles, and she felt the all-too-familiar tingles shoot up her arm.

“Laci, I tried it before. I tried it again the last two months. I can’t do it. I can’t live without you in my life.”

The words she always wanted to hear. From the man she wanted to hear it from. And it wasn’t enough.

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I’m sorry, Del. Two months is a long time. I’ve moved on.”

“That’s why you’re home alone on New Year’s Eve dressed for a party and wearing the necklace I gave you.”

She blinked, but didn’t answer him. Couldn’t.

“You’re missing something, though.” He scrutinized her from head to toe.

Laci squirmed under his gaze. She patted her hair and smoothed her dress.

“No. It’s not your hair or your dress. Those are stunning. It’s your fingers.”

“I just had a manicure!” She held out her hands and stared at her fingernails. None was rough or chipped. When she looked back up at him, he was on one knee in front of her.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a tiny black box and opened it. A brilliant diamond sat nestled in the satin interior of the box. Intricate facets reflected the soft light in the room.

“Marry me, Laci.”

Those were the words she’d always wanted to hear. From the man she wanted to hear it from. And she wanted it to be enough, but knew it wasn’t. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Del, why are you doing this?”

“Because I love you.”

She sobbed, tried to compose herself. But it was no use. “I’m sorry. I can’t. I don’t want to be in a long-distance relationship, and I simply can’t uproot my life and move across the country.”

He took her hand. “Who asked you to?”

“You did. You are. Again.”

He shook his head. “No, Laci. No, I’m not.”

“Then how will we make this work?”

“The same way we have been.”

She sniffled. “Don’t lie to me.”

He sat back on his heel. “I’m not. Why would you think that?”

“I saw you. On Thanksgiving. Getting into a cab with all your stuff.”

Again he shook his head. “You know, you jump to conclusions more than anyone I know. I’ve been calling you for weeks, but you never answered or returned my calls.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She hardly dared ask, but she had to know. She whispered, “Didn’t the new job work out?”

“My new job is great. I have more free time and more money.”

“Oh.” She looked away.

“It’s downtown.”

She looked back at him. “What?”

“I told you. You just assume things when you don’t know the facts. I never took the west coast job. I took a job right here, in town.”

“But I saw you…”

“You did see me. But you jumped to the wrong conclusion. Again. I moved. I wanted a house. In the suburbs. For us.”

“What?”

“You know that two-story Tudor two blocks from your folks? The one you love? I bought it.”

She raised trembling fingers to her lips. Could it be true? “What?”

“I couldn’t leave, not without you. I spent the first month away from you packing and the second fixing up the house. But I called you every day.”

“I deleted your messages. I couldn’t stand to hear your voice knowing you were gone.”

“But I’m right here. And I’m asking… was it all for nothing? Do you not want me anymore? Or will you marry me?”

She smiled, then laughed through the tears. “Yes. Yes!”

He took her hand and slid the ring on her finger. “There. Now your outfit’s complete.”

She threw her arms around him, and he hugged her tight. “I love you, Laci.”

Pulling back, she rested her forehead against his. “I love you, too, Del.”

“One more thing.”

She looked at him. “What?”

He nodded to the clock. It was five after twelve.

“Happy birthday.”

She looked at her ring, a glinting promise of a long future with the man she loved.

It was indeed a happy birthday. It was going to be a wonderful life.

Control

If you know me, you know how important family is to me. Being there for the good and the bad, the happy and the sad, the holidays and the day-to-day. I never expected to live 1,000 miles away from my hometown; never thought I wouldn’t be able to be with my loved ones anytime I wanted, let alone on a holiday.

But I didn’t go home for Thanksgiving.

If you know me, you know I love to cook. You know I meticulously plan holiday meals and special event menus. I budget my time in the kitchen to maximize output, minimize work, and get everything on the table at the right time.

This year, I had a problem with the oven and the turkey wasn’t ready when the rest of the meal was.

If you know me, you know when I set a goal or deadline for myself, I meet it. I try to exceed it. This year, I determined not to miss a weekly post. Not for vacations. Not for holidays. I had a guest post scheduled for today, so I was covered.

But due to circumstances beyond my control, the guest post won’t be published today.

In the course of our daily lives, there are plenty of challenges in our way, obstacles to overcome, problems to solve. It would be ever so easy to throw our hands up in the air, howl in frustration, and give up.

I could have cried because I couldn’t go home for the holiday. I could have had dinner without the turkey or just scrapped the meal altogether in favor of takeout. I could have not written a post today and missed my deadlines.

But I didn’t.

I embraced my “phone” visits with my family. I even missed two birthdays and two “First Thanksgivings” with the new babies. But pictures made it easier. I made dinner work and enjoyed my husband, kids, and dogs. I even made a few new recipes, and they were well worth the experiment. And I wrote a post. It’s one I’m pretty proud of. And one I hope you can learn from.

Life gets so much easier when we learn to roll with the punches, accept the things that aren’t working, change the things within our control, and let the other things go.

I don’t consider myself a control freak (although my husband and kids might argue to the contrary), but control is important. It helps us feel in charge of our destinies. It gives us confidence in ourselves. It takes away uncertainty.

7 Ways to Conquer Challenges and Assume/Maintain Control

First, you must always be prepared for a setback.
If one occurs, you must be able to make an honest assessment of your situation. Once emotions get involved, it’s harder to be impartial.
Next, you must decide what things you have no control over and what things you can affect.
1. On the things you can’t impact, decide to accept them for what they are and move past them.
2. On the things you can impact, analyze the situation. Then make plan for solving your problem, or, if you already have a contingency plan, review it.
Is your plan sound and viable?
1. If so, implement it.
2. If not, revise it until it is, then implement it.
Make assessments on the fly, and adapt to changes in your situation.
Be prepared to let go of your ideal and accept “well enough for now.”
Learn to be happy with what you have instead of upset with what you don’t have.

For Writers:
We’ve all written that passage, scene, or chapter that simply doesn’t work. You may love it for fifteen different reasons, but “cutting our darlings” has to be one of the best lessons we can learn. The best way to control our writing is to honestly assess it (or listen to constructive feedback from others) and decide the best course of action. If that means deleting, then delete. If that means rewriting, then rewrite. If that means a minor tweak or leaving it as is, then tweak or let it stand. But to truly be in control, we have to be the ones who make the tough choices. Our work, and ourselves, will be better for it in the end.

For Everyone:
No one likes to give up control. It can be more than uncomfortable. Sometimes it can be downright scary. But with an action plan and a calm, rational demeanor, we can resume control of most situations and find a solution we can be comfortable with. For times when we have no control? We just have to learn to accept that and hope for the best.

Me personally? Maybe I am a control freak. I plan. I make contingency plans. I adapt. I admit it… I do like to be in control.

Today, I’m not. It’s tradition to decorate the house for Christmas on the day after Thanksgiving. I’ve tried to get out of it for the last few years, but my daughter has put her foot down. So I’m decorating today. As much as I love to be in control, I recognize a hopeless cause when I see one. And today, I defer to the force of nature that is my daughter.

Have you ever found yourself in a situation where things didn’t go according to plan? How did you cope? Do you have any advice to offer? Let’s talk about it. Share your story here.